


Naughty Library

by purrfectj



Series: That Looks on Tempests and is Never Shaken [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purrfectj/pseuds/purrfectj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Should we let them teach us the naughty bits?" - In which Leliana and Zevran are worried Aalish and Alistair's first time was disappointing and want to help. Prequel to "A Better Woman then She". - F!Cousland/Alistair, Zevran/Leliana</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naughty Library

Zevran had been watching and knew: the girl was no longer a maid, the boy no longer chaste. He knew, too, the first time could be awkward, uncomfortable, and disappointing, particularly between two young people without experience. He tried approaching the boy but Alistair only laughed off the inquiries and offers of help as Zevran’s usual merciless teasing. He then thought to approach Aalish, to tease out her light, tinkling laugh while imparting his wisdom. The boy, however, became more than her shield, shadowing her steps always, and Zevran knew true love could make even more rational men than Alistair wild with jealousy. So he took his interest and, yes, his concerns, to Leliana. The bard, like Zevran, was well-versed in the arts of seduction and agreed that satisfaction in the bedroom made true love all the sweeter. Since divide and conquer was out of the question, they agreed they would instead offer a united front.

And pray to the Maker that Alistair didn’t expire from embarrassment and Aalish didn’t pull her daggers.

The two young people were sitting on the bank of the cool stream near camp, dangling their sore, bare feet in the water and murmuring to each other in the low, intimate tones of lovers. Sarim the mabari was stretched out on the opposite bank, obviously chasing rabbits in his sleep. Leliana’s tender, romantic heart squeezed to see the bright copper head resting on the broad male shoulder, his strong arm sheltering her, her slender, capable hand stroking his back. Zevran was surprised and pleased to see his sword and her bow within easy reach, though neither were wearing their armor, only loose tunics and trews.

“Ah, my friends, it is good to see that true love has not made you foolish.”

“Go away, Zevran.” Aalish’s voice, annoyed and amused, was muffled in the material of Alistair’s shirt. Alistair grinned over his shoulder at them and waved.

“What she said, only nicer.”

Ignoring the commands, Leliana took up a place next to Alistair even as Zevran lounged next to Aalish. For a bit, silence reined in the little glade.

Aalish peaked up at Alistair, pleased when he grinned down at her and leaned forward to press a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “Think they came to give us advice on licking lampposts?” She pitched her voice to carry and was rewarded by the rumble of Alistair’s chuckle against her and puzzled looks from their scheming friends.

“Should we let them teach us the naughty bits?” He raised an eyebrow and pretended innocence. Aalish giggled and kissed him lightly, rubbing her lips softly against his, climbing properly into his lap, arms around his shoulders, legs sprawled across his, bottom settled into the cradle of his thighs. His grin widened, his big hands settling on her hips to steady her. She felt the thrill all of the way through her, could see in his eyes that he felt it, too. Love. Strong and deep and impossible, with the world falling down around them. 

“Well, you are very very bad…” Aalish’s voice was a soft purr, her delivery and the teasing satisfaction in her expression giving her words an entirely new meaning. Leliana’s pale blue eyes widened in surprise, Zevran’s dark brown ones narrowing in speculation as Alistair laughed, only the tips of his ears going pink. 

“Usually the first time is not so enjoyable, particularly for the woman.” Leliana’s tone was softly questioning, Zevran’s expression mirroring her concern. Realizing they only meant well, Aalish relented.

“Two years ago Summerday, my mother caught the son of one of our holders kissing me behind a market stall.” 

Alistair stroked a hand down her back and kissed her temple, laughter in his voice. “Naughty minx.”

She shrugged, looking briefly pained. “Yes, well, it was only because I’d bested him in an archery contest. Kissing as punishment. How droll.” Alistair made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, knowing her flippant delivery belied the pain she’d been through at the hands of vicious gossip and teasing. How the men and boys of Highever had overlooked someone as fierce and loyal as Aalish continued to amaze him. He found it incredibly sexy that her focus in combat never wavered, that she could sometimes best him in hand-to-hand with her stealthy, flexible, beautifully female body. He was a lucky man. 

“Even though the kissing wasn’t my idea, my mother thought maybe it was time I understood from whence babies come.”

“They come from the Fade, if you ask nicely enough.” Alistair winked at Leliana as she choked, knowing she’d heard Wynne’s teasing. Zevran snorted out a laugh. Aalish only rolled her eyes.

“My mother was a force of nature, you have to understand. She believed in doing everything well. It was important to her that I understand that what happened between a man and a woman was not just duty and creating new life, but could also be done for the simple pleasure of it.” She sighed, leaning into Alistair, enjoying the reassuring beat of his heart under her cheek, how his hands stroked her back and shoulders and hips, anchoring her against him. Her voice had become dreamy; this memory of her mother was a good, sweet one, one she could balance against all the darkness that had consumed her world. “She gave me books. With pictures.”

Unlike other noble mothers, Eleanor Cousland had never despaired that Aalish preferred hunting and hawking and weapons training to embroidery and needlework. She found it comforting to see Aalish grow into a spirited, fiery woman, to know her only daughter was going to be capable of carving out a place in the world that had little to do with whom she married and everything to do with who she was. She knew Aalish despaired of the boys and men of Highever, however, with their disdain for her intelligence and her competitive spirit. It was going to take a special man to see the strong, capable partner Aalish was going to be, and Eleanor hoped she had time, yet, to keep her girl close.

Because Eleanor had married a man who trusted and respected her and whom she could trust and respect in equal measure, she wanted that for her daughter. And so she explained to a fascinated Aalish that men and women could come together in passion and fire, that creating a child could be the end result but that with potions and teas and careful planning, a child did not need to be the only reason a woman shared her body with a man. The books she gave Aalish were both old and new, some from the Imperium, some from the Dalish, even one or two from the Chantry. “My darling girl, ignore the prostyletizing and dire predictions and even the flowery language. Here, in these books, here you will learn what can please a man and, in turn, what he can do to please you.” 

Aalish had sighed and leaned her head upon her mother’s knee. “Boys are stupid.”

Eleanor stroked the messy hair, letting the strands sift through her fingers, glad her daughter couldn’t see her amused smile. “You are growing into a singular woman, Aalish. One day there will be a man who will recognize you, whose heart will stutter and fall at your feet. I pray only that he be a good man, and worthy of you.”

She hoped her mother and father knew of Alistair, who’d been mistreated and ignored and yet still had the nobility and honor of a prince, and approved.

“Did you commit these books to memory, then?” Leliana’s voice was intrigued, pulling Aalish back into the present, into the solid feel of herself in Alistair’s lap, in his arms, his breath stirring her hair as he chuckled. 

“I think she did. Good thing I like my women bossy. Hey!” He laughed again when Aalish pinched his waist. “You are bossy. And I do like it.” He nuzzled his nose against hers until the hurt eased out of her blue eyes.

“I didn’t memorize the books. Lucky for me and for Alistair, the Wonders of Thedas had some of the same books. And others, besides.” She grinned sheepishly. “So now I have a naughty library.”

“We have a naughty library. You did make me read a bunch of them, remember?” Alistair pretended to shudder in horror. “Reading. About…that! Indecent.”

“You liked it, you bad man.” Aalish dug her fingertips into Alistair’s ribs, right where she knew he was ticklish. He yelped and retaliated by tugging on her hair, pulling it from some of the pins she used to tame it.

Zevran and Leliana traded an amused, relieved glance as they rose, leaving the two young lovers kissing passionately on the bank. Discreetly, Leliana slipped her hand into Zevran’s as they meandered back toward camp. “Do you think the books are in her pack or his?”

Pulling the bard closer to his side, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “More to the point, do you think they’ll notice if we borrow one or three?”


End file.
